


Holy

by eachuaine



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: F/F, fem!joshua, you know what's goin on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 10:15:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22968343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eachuaine/pseuds/eachuaine
Summary: It was in one of those shitty motel rooms in Novac.
Relationships: Female Courier/Joshua Graham
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Holy

It was in one of those shitty motel rooms in Novac.

She’s not sure how it started. She never is, when it comes to her. In one moment, they are taking off their gear. Backpacks, water skins, boots, bulletproof jackets, everything that isn’t a shirt or pants or socks. And then the next—and they seemed to skip together, one into the other—Lucy’s hands were on the belt Joshua been struggling with.

She’d lost the use of her arm earlier in the day. Bruised a few ribs. The stimpak is doing its work, slowly, but the injury leaves her fumbling. She tries not to be angry—patience is a virtue, after all, and it could be worse, and it’s brought Lucy close, closer than she’d ever been without a firefight driving them together, and that’s not so bad, is it? Everything happens for a reason.

Lucy gets the belt undone and slides it out of the loops of Joshua's pants, and it feels so natural to cup her jaw in her hand and run her thumb over the scratch she finds on Lucy's cheek. Her eyes are dark and shining in the low lantern light. She doesn’t protest. It occurs to Joshua she must have been waiting for this as long as she has.

The first kiss is soft and tentative, and she doesn’t really feel it through the scars, but the next (and the next, and the next) are bruising, hungry, wanting, and she feels _that_ , feels how Lucy's soft lips move against her ruined mouth, and her hands travel to her waist and fist in the back of her hair, and then they’re on the bed—that shitty, creaky bed—haphazardly stripping off old, sweaty clothes. She slides her hand under the bandages, hands warm against Joshua's warped flesh, and she _feels_ it, and it leaves her shivering, shivering the way Lucy does when she scrapes her teeth down the line of her throat, tasting salt and skin. They’re bare against each other in that dark, moving together, breath soft, and the first noise she makes is a strangled little breath when Joshua slides her fingers between her legs, and if that isn’t just _something_ …

It’s been so long. Too long. The fire, her rage—it burns so hot no one can touch her. But Lucy can. Lucy is made of the same fire. They are the same creature, a creature with two heartbeats and molten blood in their veins and hearts made of fire and _this_ , Joshua thinks, holding her, feeling Lucy's breasts and stomach as she arches up into her, _this_ is what it is to feel the touch of God.

This is holy.


End file.
